


Lost Girl

by nagemeikenu



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-21
Updated: 2017-03-10
Packaged: 2018-09-26 01:31:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,721
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9856064
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nagemeikenu/pseuds/nagemeikenu
Summary: When Dan and Phil come to America to work on a documentary about the foster/child services system, they find an abusive children's home. This discovery will change their lives forever. NOTE: This is not a ship phanfiction, because I have other plans, but the focus is on my OCs rather than Dan and Phil (however, there will be plenty of them because I love those smol beans).





	1. Her

**Author's Note:**

> Heyo, I decided to actually write a phanfiction, but in a different way. I'm challenging myself not to ship them...it is difficult, but they will not be together in this fic. I hope you like it!

Nervous, the tiny girl barely peeked outside the door. Silence was never good. Silence was bad. The hallway was empty, which was normal, but the silence seemed to somehow become menacing laughter. Squeezing her eyes shut, gripping the side of the door so tightly it hurt, the little girl tried not to cry. Crying is bad—she reminded herself again and again until her eyes dried. When she opened her eyes, she heard footsteps. Now she froze rather than shook, because she was back.  
She was terrifying. Even her breathing made the child want to run and hide. That child had long ago learned that hiding made things worse. The footsteps grew closer, and the girl hurried to her corner. Hugging her knees to her chest, she waited. Voices could be heard from the hallway, and that was strange. She was the only one who could speak freely. The other voices were male, and that was stranger. No one came here. No one cared enough to come here, and everyone here deserved what they got. One boy asked if someone would come save them, and she’d heard. She had laughed, and said no one here was worth saving. Then she’d taken the boy to Time Out. Ever since that night, he’d never spoken again. Everyone was more careful about speaking after that. No one spoke without permission. Why was it so loud? The voices and footsteps were outside the door. The girl gulped, and watched her walk through the door.  
She was smiling, and that was bad. She never smiled.  
“Ms. Mavis, where do the children sleep?” questioned a man. His voice was strange. He had brown hair, part of it falling onto his forehead. She hated hair like that. When Amanda first came, she was punished for her bangs. Another man with black hair, the same style on the opposite side of his face, was holding something red and spoke next.  
“Yes, we’ve not seen any beds in the rooms you’ve shown us,” his voice was the same strange way of speaking as the first man.  
“Beds?” she repeated. The girl was also confused. What is a “bed”?  
“Yes, and the fact that none of the children we’ve seen have spoken or smiled is also worrying,” the man with brown hair picked up the conversation. The girl wondered why she should smile. And didn’t he know that speaking without permission was against the Rules?  
“There’s no need to worry, Mr. Howell,” she said, “they are troubled children.”  
“That doesn’t answer the question about their sleeping arrangements,” the black-haired man stated with a frown.  
“Mr. Lester, these children have everything they need,” she said. “Don’t you, Megan dear?”  
Surprised, the girl said nothing.  
“Did you hear me, Megan?” Her smile was still in place, but the girl knew that tone—ice was the warning. Quickly, the girl nodded.  
“You have everything you need, don’t you?” The smile vanished and the girl swallowed.  
“Y-yes, ma’am.” She hugged her knees tighter.  
“Phil…” the brown-haired man Mr. Howell said it quietly, but added nothing.  
“Yeah,” the other man Mr. Lester replied after the briefest of pauses, lowering the red rectangle in his hand. It disappeared into a pocket of his purple jacket covered in pretty stars.  
“Ms. Mavis, could we interview the children here? It would be great footage for the documentary,” Mr. Howell spoke to her with an easy smile, quickly dismissing the prior exchange.  
“Yes,” Mr. Lester jumped in, “we’ve done the same at other children’s homes and orphanages, and it’s added a layer of emotion to the film.”  
“Well…” she trailed off.  
“We will, of course, compensate you for the time,” added Mr. Lester. She didn’t see Mr. Howell’s mouth twitch, but the girl did.  
“In that case, I suppose it would be alright,” she said slowly, “would I supervise?”  
“That would take away the impact,” Mr. Howell shook his head.  
“Could we just go around and ask them questions?” Mr. Lester pipped up, cutting off her response.  
“That’s a great idea, Phil! The kids would be in a natural place instead of the usual interview style you’d see,” exclaimed Mr. Howell with a grin.  
“Perhaps you could tell the other children we’d like to speak to them so they won’t be caught off guard,” Mr. Lester, the one with the small red rectangle, smiled. He’d taken the object out of his pocket again.  
“That would be helpful, thanks Ms. Mavis,” the other patted her shoulder, “we’ll start with Megan, was it?” His face turned to the girl, still watching from the corner.  
“Yes, that’s Megan. I’m sure she’ll be on her best behavior,” she said, and turned to the door, “I’ll just update the other darlings.” With that, the girl was alone with two men she’d never met.  
Frightened, she trembled when the door clicked shut.  
“Hello, Megan,” Mr. Lester smiled warmly, “My name is Phil, and this is Dan. Will you please answer some questions for us?”  
The girl blinked. No one had ever asked her for permission to do anything before. The brown-haired man, Dan, smiled gently, almost like a silent encouragement. At last, she gave a tiny nod. Her grip on her knees loosened and while the wariness stayed bright in her eyes, the fear had made its exit.  
“Okay, Megan,” Dan said, “Phil is going to record this on the camera—” Phil gestured to the red rectangle with much enthusiasm— “and I’ll be asking some easy questions. Would you mind if I came a bit closer?”  
The girl hesitated, but gave a slow shake of her head. Dan blew out a quiet breath and took slow steps forward until he made cautious moves to sit cross-legged next in front of her. Phil moved just as carefully to get a good angle, and turned on the camera.  
“Ready?” Dan asked Phil.  
“Yep,” Phil nodded with a huge grin, “are you, Megan?”  
She blinked and nodded once, setting her chin on her knees.  
“Alright, now the first thing to remember is that it’s very important to be honest, alright?” Dan’s face was serious, but he made sure to keep his tone gentle and calm. When she nodded in response for the umpteenth time in a row, he asked the first question:  
“Where do you sleep, Megan?”  
“I sleep here,” she said quietly, in a voice soft and timid, “this is my corner.”  
“Do you have a blanket or pillow?” Dan could feel his stomach sinking even further. Ever since they walked through the front door, nothing had felt right. He and Phil had exchanged many an uneasy glance, and they’d only been here for fifteen minutes. Ms. Mavis gave them both the creeps. When he looked at the girl with big blue eyes in front of him, who was confused, his heart broke.  
“Have you anything to keep you warm at night?” he pressed.  
“No,” she furrowed her brows and blinked.  
“Alright,” he nodded, “what’s the food like here? Does Ms. Mavis cook for you?”  
“We get soup,” she suddenly smiled, “it’s a food day today!” Her abrupt excitement made Dan smile, thought one thing nagged at him: “Food day?”  
“Yep! We get chicken in the soup with our bread unless you’re bad.”  
“What happens if you’re bad?” Dan asked, even though he didn’t want to know.  
“You don’t eat,” she replied simply.

For a moment, neither Dan nor Phil moved. When Dan had his breath back, he asked, “is that the worst thing to happen?” When Megan shook her head, he wanted to find a bin to get sick in. The nausea only got worse as she spoke.  
“It’s worse when she hits. The food is only bad for the new ones. They haven’t been put in Time Out,” she hugged her knees tightly once more, “that is the scariest because we don’t know how long it’ll last.”  
“You’re locked away somewhere for a long time?” Dan tried to remind himself that they were here to fix this. It didn’t much help.  
“Mmhmm. When she comes back, we don’t know if it’s to hit us or to let us out,” she began shaking.  
“That’s it,” Dan stood abruptly, and looked directly at Phil. With tears slipping down his cheeks, Phil turned the camera off.  
“It’s more than enough,” he steadied himself, and said, “now, Dan.”  
Dan turned on his heel, whipped out his phone, and let out a stream of curses when he dialed 999 instead of 911. After correcting his error, the operator asked quick-fire questions and assured him that the police would arrive within ten minutes and she’d sent an ambulance just in case one of the kids was in need of treatment. When he’d thanked him, and hung up, Phil’s eyes were dry. Both of them had yet to realize that Megan was crying silently.


	2. Them

Chapter 2: Them

When Dan and Phil turned around, they saw only that Megan had laid her face on her knees.  
“Megan,” Phil began, but he was silenced by the sudden jerk of her body, and he watched as her head raised from her hiding place. She shook terribly while tears leaked from her eyes.  
“I-I’m s-s-sorry,” she wept, “I’ll be g-good, I pr-promise!” Her plea dissolved into more tears while the two men stood in shock.  
“You’ve been very good,” Phil told her, “you’ve done nothing wrong, love.”  
“Phil’s right,” Dan took a step forward, “we aren’t angry with you. You’re safe with us.”  
“Dan and I don’t hit,” Phil’s voice was quiet, but effective.  
“You…you don’t?” the question was followed by a hiccup.  
“No, we don’t,” Dan assured her with a smile. The girl sniffed and wipe her eyes.  
“You aren’t mad?” she checked.  
“Not with you,” Dan clarified, “we are angry with Ms. Mavis.”  
“Why?” she hugged her knees again.  
“Ms. Mavis doesn’t treat you the way she should,” Phil simplified the situation.  
“She…doesn’t?” Phil was relieved to see her grip on her knees loosen.  
“No,” Dan said firmly, “she’s broken adult rules.”  
Now the blond girl could do nothing but stare at the men in front of her. Her wide eyes flicked from one to the other. At last, she spoke up.  
“What adult rules?”  
“One is that adults are not allowed to hurt children. She’s hurt every child here, hasn’t she?”  
Megan thought for a moment before nodding. “We all get hit,” her soft voice was even fainter now.  
“She is also meant to feed you three times a day,” Phil told her. Again, the girl’s surprise broke his heart.  
“Not once?” she asked.  
“Once in the morning, once in the afternoon, and once at night,” Dan clarified, “no matter how you behave.”  
The two men let her take in the information. Dan checked his phone after a moment.  
“The police should be here any minute,” he announced.  
“Good,” Phil felt the tension in his shoulders drain away. It came back all at once when there was knocking on the door. It opened to reveal Ms. Mavis, whom Phil now despised. His friendly demeanor vanished when he spoke.  
“Yes, Ms. Mavis?” Dan’s head jerked towards Phil. It was incredibly rare to hear ice in his tone.  
The woman raised her eyebrows. “I was wondering if you’d finished speaking to Megan,” she said, a pleasant smile forming on her lips. Dan barely stopped himself from rolling his eyes.  
“Yes,” he said, “could we speak to you in the kitchen, please?” Phil nodded; it was best to keep her from the other kids.  
“Has Megan not been helpful? I can assure you that I will discipline her for that,” her eyes narrowed at her charge in the corner.  
“Not at all,” Phil said quickly, “she has been lovely. We just wanted to ask you some questions there,” he pulled out his camera, “it’ll be a nice setting, and then you’ll be free to do what needs doing while we continue with the other children.”  
“Ah, yes,” the blond waves bounced as she nodded, “right this way.”  
Before Dan left the room behind Ms. Mavis and Phil, he glanced back at Megan. “It’ll be over soon,” he promised. She nodded, and he closed the door behind him.

~₪~

The kitchen was spotless. Dan noted the lack of preparations for lunch, but made no comment. While Phil debated over the setting of the “interview” with Ms. Mavis, he checked his phone and frowned. Surely the police should be here by now.  
“Dan, I think we’ve got it,” Phil’s voice brought him back to the sparse kitchen. Ms. Mavis was sitting at the table with two glasses of water set at the places closest to the window. Dan analyzed the lighting and angle Phil was using. “Will the light be enough?”  
Phil shrugged his shoulders, “There isn’t anything I can do to make it better.”  
“The overhead lamp isn’t doing much,” sighed Ms. Mavis, “if I had more funding I could fix things around here.” Dan let that comment go, but he saw Phil want to respond nastily. Discreetly, Dan shook his head as he sat. Phil couldn’t help the “hm” that escaped, or the small eye roll. Ms. Mavis’ brows raised, but Dan distracted her by “accidentally” knocking the water glass hard enough to almost spill it. He let out an obnoxious sigh of relief, and Phil laughed.  
It was then the doorbell rang. Ms. Mavis jolted. Phil couldn’t help asking, “Expecting someone?”  
“No,” Ms. Mavis rose, “I’ll just get that.” Dan and Phil waited five seconds before following.  
“Finally,” Dan muttered as she opened the door. Two gruff police officers stood there.  
“Can I help you?” Ms. Mavis questioned.  
“Ms. Mavis Darby?” asked the female with raised brows.  
“Yes,” she answered warily, “why? No one called you here, did they?”  
“We received a 911 call fifteen minutes ago, reporting neglect and abuse,” the male spoke calmly.  
Ms. Mavis had the audacity to laugh, “That’s ridiculous!”  
“No, it’s not,” Dan countered.  
“We have a video testimony,” Phil held out the camera to the female officer. She took it and turned it on.  
“It’s the last video recorded,” Phil said helpfully.  
“What did that bitch say?” When Dan saw the anger in the woman’s blue eyes, he gulped  
“Ms. Mavis, please remain calm,” the male officer made the request a warning. Ms. Mavis didn’t heed it.  
“I’ll kill her! That traitorous bitch!” the voice exploded out of the woman, and the male officer had her cuffed within seconds of the outburst. Then Ms. Mavis started screaming vile words that made Phil feel slightly sick. The female officer merely huffed out a breath while her partner read Ms. Mavis her rights and guided and/or dragger her to the cruiser.  
“Is there a place for us to discuss this?” she moved her gaze from Dan to Phil slowly, as if she was gathering an astounding amount of new information from only their expressions and appearances.  
“We could use the kitchen,” Dan shrugged, and Phil laughed from relief, nerves, and general emotional overload. After having to correct Phil on which direction the kitchen was, the three sat at the table. Officer Ray, as she introduced herself, watched with no expression as Megan answered questions in the video.  
“This is enough to put Ms. Darby in a cell,” Officer Ray looked at the British men, “the kids here will be transferred to other homes with required therapy.”  
“Good,” sighed Phil, “we want them to be safe and happy.”  
Officer Ray’s face completely softened with a smile, “they’ll get there eventually. Now,” she stood, “I’ll need you two to stay in town, and the memory card from this.”  
“Absolutely,” Dan agreed, “we’re going to be in North Carolina for the next three months, and we can use the hotel here as a base. After that, our visa runs out.”  
“If there’s anything you need,” Phil fished out a pen and pad of paper from a drawer after searching through four, “here are our numbers.”  
“And we’d like updates on the case,” added Dan, “I want to know what happens to them.” Phil nodded his agreement and gave the torn piece of paper to the cop. She nodded and put it in a pocket on her belt.  
“I can do that,” she told them, “and one last thing—do you know where Ms. Darby kept her paperwork?”  
“There’s a front desk in the entrance hall,” remembered Phil, “but she didn’t show us any of the papers or filing side of things. We were more focused on the children than the administration.”  
“That’s fair,” Officer Ray acknowledged, “I would be too, if I was adopting.”  
“Oh, we’re not adopting,” Dan laughed awkwardly.  
“We’re filming a documentary on the American child care systems and child services,” Phil explained with a light blush, “we aren’t…together.”  
“Ah,” her eyebrows raised and an amused smirk formed, “I see.” Then she gestured for them to follow her back to the entrance.  
The silence worried Phil. Children should be curious, they should be creeping from the woodwork by now.  
“Where are the kids?” Officer Ray asked. The useless answer of “I don’t know” was interrupted by the doorbell. Officer Ray opened it to the EMTs that had been sent.  
“We were told some kids might need treatment from physical abuse and malnutrition. We have some snacks and water bottles, juice boxes, and—” the man frowned while setting down the giant cooler. The other EMTs set down their supplies as well.  
“Why is it so quiet?” the first one asked.  
“Often, abused children are scared into silence,” a woman behind him explained quietly. She came forward and showed Officer Ray her ID badge and said, “Social Services.”  
After Officer Ray nodded her approval, the agent turned to the EMTs and said, “I think it’s best to go from room to room, and lead with the food. It will go a long way towards trust.” The three of them thanked her, and one piped up, “Does anyone know how many kids are here so we can be sure to get everyone the attention they need?”  
The Social Services agent opened a file and said, “I have seventeen registered here.”  
“Got it,” the last EMT nodded, “it’s go time.” With that, the three of them set off.  
“Agent Fulcon, I assume you need the paperwork,” Officer Ray broke the new silence.  
“Yes, I do,” she smiled.  
“We think it’s here, but we’re not sure,” Dan said, and when both women turned to look at him, he wished he’d kept his mouth shut. What was he supposed to say now that they were looking at him?  
“Yeah,” Phil said lamely, and Dan cringed. We’re too awkward for this shit. Luckily, the two women only smiled at each other (which may not have been a good thing, but neither man could tell) and searched through the scarred desk together. Dan and Phil exchanged uncertain glances—were they supposed to help or stay out of it? Dan was about to ask when Agent Fulcon gave a cheer. Grinning widely, she dumped a large pile of papers on top of the desk.  
“Excellent,” said Officer Ray with a smile.  
Finally, Dan found the courage to offer to help them.  
“Yes, thanks,” Agent Fulcon smiled warmly as they approached. “If we can sort this into papers about each child, that would help build their profiles for us.”  
“I need the originals as evidence, but we can make photocopies for y’all,” Officer Ray began dividing the piles into four. Agent Fulcon looked like she was going to protest, but ultimately shrugged and took her pile with no complaints. Officer Ray’s only reaction was a glance at the agent, followed by a self-satisfied smirk.  
A half-hour later, the seventeen incomplete profiles had been laid out on the floor, Dan’s neck ached, Phil’s left leg had fallen asleep, and one EMT briefly stopped by to report there were no serious injuries and all children had been given food and water. Then she’d headed back to keep an eye on all of them. That’s when Dan and Phil gave each other confused looks.  
“What?” asked Agent Fulcon, who noticed. Officer Ray looked up from her pile.  
“Where’s Megan?” Phil forgot about his left leg as the sinking feeling came back to his stomach.  
“The girl from the video…” the officer frowned and looked over the piles. Agent Fulcon scanned her list. The two women looked at each other, then at Dan and Phil.  
“I don’t have a Megan on my list,” Agent Fulcon finally said.  
“But there has to be,” Dan shook his head, “we didn’t interview a ghost.”  
“No, you didn’t,” agreed Officer Ray. Dan decided never to share how much that relieved him. Then Officer Ray closed her eyes and said, “Oh, God.”  
“What?” Agent Fulcon was just as lost as the two men across from her.  
“Ms. Mavis Darby is blond and blue-eyed,” Officer Ray said. Then she opened her eyes, and continued: “So is Megan.”  
“You think,” Agent Fulcon stopped speaking when the cop rose and went through the desk drawers. The others sat in silence until she’d unearthed a small photograph. A tiny baby was in Ms. Mavis Darby’s arms, and on the back of the picture in gentle cursive was:

Megan Eleanor Darby, née January 6th 2012

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter! I hope you enjoyed--I have decided that Friday will be my update day, so stay tuned next week for chapter 3!


	3. Chapter 3: Time

Dan was pacing. Phil looked up at him from his laptop. He had expected this, but it was hard to resist pleading and using puppy eyes. For once, he would convince Dan—and he would show he was serious by not using those tactics.  
“Phil,” the sigh that went into the air after that told Phil he’d have to interrupt the next stream of words.  
“We can,” Phil turned his laptop around so Dan could read it.  
“‘Can’ isn’t really what I was worried about,” Dan rubbed at his temples.  
“Well, we should, too,” Phil declared. He’d already decided to be ridiculously stubborn about this.  
“Phil,” Dan looked him in the eye, “this could take months.”  
“It’d be worth it.” The response was automatic, and he saw Dan hesitating. That was a good sign.  
“It might not happen,” the warning was more to protect Phil—if he got his hopes up, and it didn’t go through, he’d be crushed.  
“At least we’ll have tried.” This was strange. Dan narrowed his eyes. There were no ridiculous promises, no whining, no Please, Dan?s, and no looking like a heartbroken puppy out in the rain. That’s when Dan knew Phil was not budging, and no amount of Dan’s logic would talk him out of this. It didn’t help that Dan had entertained the idea himself for about ten seconds at a time before he used his logic to get the idea out of his brain. One of the reasons that had been most convincing was that Phil wouldn’t do it. Now that argument was out the window, never to be seen again.  
“You’re not going to let this one go,” he stated it, but Phil shook his head in response anyway.  
“I have to do this,” he turned the laptop back and opened another tab, “with or without you.”  
There was a moment of silence as Phil held his breath and Dan looked down at the carpet. Neither moved, and the silence was louder than anything either of them could have said.  
“What’s the first step?” Dan sat next to Phil, and looked over his shoulder as the other began explaining.  
~₪~  
“You aren’t married?” The pot-bellied man scratched at where his hairline used to be.  
“No,” Dan gritted his teeth.  
“We aren’t partners either,” Phil decided to get that part over with before Dan exploded, “we’re friends who live together.”  
“And you’re doing this together,” the man pushed the horn-rimmed glasses up on his nose.  
“Yes.” Dan was tired of this conversation, and having to explain over and over what they were doing and why it was simpler they do it together instead of one of them or separately. He messed with his fringe more while Phil sighed. Luckily, the most recent lawyer they’d come to see merely shrugged and opened the file they’d given him. He skimmed it, pursing his lips and “hm”ing every now and again. Dan itched to burst into shouting and pacing because it had been a month without any process to speak of.  
“Mr. Lester, Mr. Howell,” the lawyer began, “I think we can do it.”  
The relief on Phil’s face changed swiftly into joy. Finally, there was some good news. He looked at Dan, who didn’t seem to quite believe it.  
“Really?” He needed confirmation, unlike Phil.  
Their new lawyer chuckled and nodded.  
“Let’s do it then,” Dan leaned forward with eyes gleaming and hands rubbing together. Phil was fidgeting through most of the subsequent conversation, and when they left Young Barnaby’s Law Office, Dan jerked his thumb at the sign and laughed so hard he teared up.  
“Can we go see her?” Phil bounced from foot to foot after Dan wiped at his face.  
“Yes, you spork,” Dan tried to roll his eyes and seem annoyed, but the huge grin ruined it. Then Phil took off towards a taxi and Dan had to chase after him. Yelling at Phil not only had no effect on the six-foot-two man-child, it took what little breath he had away and made people stare. Maybe his face would have been near purple anyway, but Dan chose to blame the embarrassment over the unexpected exercise. He only got his breath back halfway to their destination, which led him to shift his opinion a bit.  
“Note to self: start jogging again.”  
“You okay?” Phil became rather concerned after hearing that.  
“What? Oh, I’m fine,” Dan assured him. Mentally, he chastised himself for talking to himself again. After banting for the rest of the ride, Phil’s excitement was back and he tried to leave the car without undoing his seatbelt. This made Dan laugh and poke fun at him until the front door to the home opened.  
“Hello,” Agent Fulcon greeted them, “she’s in the playroom.”  
Dan and Phil thanked her and made easy small talk on their way through the house.  
“I love that idiot, but he could at least remember to close the fridge,” she laughed, finishing her story about her husband.  
“I know that life,” Dan commented, stepping in the doorway to the playroom.  
“It’s just the cupboard doors!” protested Phil before a blond whirlwind crashed into Dan’s legs.  
“Hey, Megan,” Dan chuckled, surprised that he was still upright. The big smile he got was brief because she’d then attached herself to Phil’s shins.  
“Hi,” Phil beamed at her. She let go, but then tugged at his pant leg toward the sunlit room of toys. After checking that Dan was coming, too, she headed for the bin of blocks and the precarious stack beside it. Quietly, the three began adding to the eccentric tower.  
Megan never spoke much, so Dan and Phil learned to decipher her actions. Something that had surprised them was how few people she felt comfortable around. She only spoke to those she was comfortable with, and the others were given careful looks and a great deal of physical distance. Unexpected movement still made her shy away, and touch was a no-no for anyone outside of Dan and Phil. Even then, she was not one to initiate touch beyond a “hello” hug. It bothered Agent Fulcon quite a bit, but Megan was warming to her slowly. Agent Fulcon was someone she’d only recently begun to speak to, and other children in the home were graced with her trust. That was one of the only things that comforted the social services agent—at least she wasn’t completely terrified of her peers. It was only adults who’d scarred her. Outside the three of them, no adult managed to make her feel safe instead of frightened. Officer Ray didn’t see her often enough, though Dan and Phil spoke with her regularly over coffee.  
The judicial system was moving a little slowly for everyone’s liking, but she and Officer Carson had made it so that Ms. Darby couldn’t get anywhere near Megan. The two police officers had mentioned they’d been tasked with finding Megan’s father, but they were getting nowhere slowly thanks to the lack of cooperation from a certain felon. Secretly, Phil hoped they’d never find him, or discover that he’d died in the past five years. Dan’s opinion was that if the father had wanted to be around, he would have been there. Of course, they felt guilty for having those thoughts, but they couldn’t seem to help it. After all, if he was found alive and well, everything would be ruined. Phil had tried to be realistic, to remind himself there were a million ways it could fall apart and they’d barely begun, but it all dissolved with the sight of big blue eyes and white-blond hair.  
Suddenly, the tower fell, and Megan looked crestfallen.  
“Whoops,” Phil said.  
“Oh, bother,” Dan frowned. Then, he gently patted Megan’s shoulder. “Let’s try again, yeah?”  
“Yeah,” Phil smiled at her, “we can make it better this time.”  
Slowly, her disappointment bloomed into a soft smile. “Okay,” she agreed.  
This time, they sorted the blocks according to size and shape because Phil insisted it would help. Though the tower eventually fell, Dan grudgingly admitted that it was taller than the first one. Almost immediately, he regretted it, because Phil’s glee and boasts were almost as bad as when he won a Dan vs Phil. Megan was smiling and laughing at their antics, and Dan no longer cared that Phil was being an arrogant twat, in his opinion.  
It was times like these that made the cynical, niggling “this won’t actually happen, what are you, mad”s vanish. The one thing that made them go away was the something in front of him carefully selecting blocks for the base of the next tower.  
The precious time they had with her that day wasn’t enough. Megan clung to them, and neither wanted to leave her. Sometimes, they had to be reminded why they’d actually come here, that they were being paid to film a documentary instead of to play and spend time with Megan. If it was hard to leave her for less than twenty-four hours, their return to England would become the next Mission Impossible movie.  
“You’ll come back?” the child had looked up at them with vulnerable eyes while biting her lip.  
“Of course we will,” Phil had reassured her instantly.  
“Tomorrow,” Dan promised. Phil looked at him briefly before nodding his agreement. They’d make time, dammit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi there! Thanks for reading. I hope you liked this chapter, and if you have any feedback, feel free to leave me a comment. Happy Friday!


	4. Fatherhood

Officer Carson sometimes hated his job. This was one of those times. It wasn’t that Hilton Head, South Carolina was a bad place to be, as the herons and water were almost as pretty as his finacée. Unfortunately, sweet Chelsea wasn’t with him to admire it, and the reason he was here made his gut tighten. Far too used to setting aside his feelings to do his job, he rang the doorbell to the old house. At first, no one answered. Ringing three times before giving up was an unwritten rule in the force, so he did as he’d been taught. The little glimmer of hope he had died when the door swung open, squealing its protest as Officer Carson did internally. The man in the doorway had a ripped white t-shirt on—or, Carson assumed it was white under all the beer stains—and cargo pants that had seen better days.  
“I ain’t done nothin’,” the stocky, tanned man wagged his finger at Carson for emphasis.  
“Mr. Andrew Tohn?” Carson kept his face expressionless, something he’d picked up from Ray.  
“Most people call me John,” he frowned at the cop’s uniform, “You ain’t from ‘round here.”  
“No, sir,” Carson shook his head briefly, “I was sent here on account of your daughter.”  
The man burst out laughing, “I don’t got a daughter.”  
“Do you know a Ms. Mavis Darby?” Carson asked, raising a brow.  
“I know a lot of women,” John grinned—and that made Carson a bit uncomfortable, “if one of ‘em got pregnant, it ain’t my problem.”   
“She thought so,” acknowledged Carson, “but she’s going to jail.”  
“Now I know I’m bein’ punked,” John stopped Carson from speaking with his hand raised and a very amused expression on his worn face, “where are the cameras?”  
“Nowhere,” Carson said tightly, “this little girl might be yours, and custody would be yours, too.” He handed the not-so-overjoyed father a small photo of Megan.  
The man gazed at it, all traces of laughter gone from his face. Now that Carson saw that expression, he knew this was the man of the hour. Megan had looked just like that when he and Ray told her they thought they’d found her daddy.  
“This,” John turned the picture toward Carson, “is my little girl?” He couldn’t be a father. This wasn’t happening.  
“We’d like to do a paternity test to dot our I’s and cross our t’s, but we’re fairly certain, Mr. Tohn.”  
“What do you need for it?” John stood tall. Maybe science would save him, and by extension, the girl in the photograph he held. In response, Carson set his evidence kit on the stoop and unzipped it.  
Two minutes later, the bag was zipped and Carson handed John a business card. He told the new father he’d be in touch, and got a terse nod in return. They said their goodbyes and Carson slid into the unmarked sedan at the end of the drive. He started the engine and looked back at the old, dull house before driving the long distance back to Raleigh.  
Sometimes, he hated his job.  
~₪~  
Megan was waiting. They’d promised they’d come back. Sometimes they came late, after the sun went to sleep and she’d gotten her bath. If they did, they were in time to play and read a story before bedtime. It was comforting to have them read to her. They took turns, became different characters with funny voices and laughed quietly. After they finished the story, they would pull the covers over her and each would kiss her cheek. She loved when they came late, but she wanted them here soon. They never lied to her. They never hit. They told her they loved her every time they had to leave. They promised they’d come back. They never broke a promise.  
More time passed, and the girl continued to look out the window following lunch. At last, she saw headlights pull into the driveway. She jumped from the window seat and ran to the kitchen.  
“Megan?” Agent Fulcon was startled to see the little one burst into the room. Not ten seconds later, there was a knock on the door. The woman set aside her paperwork and coffee mug so she could answer it. While she did, Megan peeked at the file on top. She saw pictures of Dan and Phil attached to the papers with a lot of writing on it. Her head tilted as she tried to guess what all the long words meant. It would be fun to pretend they meant they could take her home with them to the England they told her about, where it rained a lot and people drank tea and sang about saving the Queen. Imagining that made her happy. Then she heard the voices, and abandoned the kitchen to go to the entrance hall.  
It was obvious who it would be, so Agent Fulcon greeted them before the door was completely open.  
“Hey, Melissa!” Phil said brightly. Dan echoed the hello and stepped in after Phil. Megan went right to them with arms outstretched and demanded, “Up!” Phil laughed and obliged her. This was new, so Phil soaked in the feeling of holding her close. After a moment, she leaned back and reached for Dan. Phil was not prepared, but managed to not drop her while Dan took their “angel”, as Phil had dubbed her a few weeks back, into his arms. Like Phil, he milked it for all its worth before Megan tried to climb down.  
“Easy, Megan,” he cautioned as he set her down, “I am very tall and falling that distance would hurt like a…it would hurt quite a lot.” He remembered she was barely five just in time. Oblivious, the girl giggled. She didn’t see Phil nor Agent Fulcon glaring at Dan. He mouthed “sorry” to them, and Phil rolled his eyes. Before the woman could scold him properly, Megan was tugging at their pant legs.  
“Play!” Her glee was contagious. As the two giants followed the blond fairy to the playroom, Melissa Fulcon couldn’t help her smile. That little girl had them wrapped around her finger.  
Her smile vanished when her phone rang, and as she listened, her heart broke for the two men upstairs. Sometimes, she hated her job.  
~₪~  
Dan was shaking. He felt everything boil and churn inside him. There was one thing keeping him from roaring at Melissa, the two cops standing in front of him, at God, should there be one, and the world in general—that something had joined a game of pretend with the other children two minutes ago. So instead, he growled.  
“What?” To Phil, it didn’t sound human. Then again, nothing seemed real. It felt like a nightmare that he’d wake from any second. Everything was bright and painful. He wanted to cry, scream, and punch something all at once. Instead, he did nothing but stare as the three Americans tried to calm Dan. They were failing pitifully. Maybe if he wasn’t frozen he’d have laughed at the scene, start filming. Maybe if his heart wasn’t shattered and bleeding, he would have intervened.  
Maybe if there had been a way to murder Mr. Andrew John Tohn, he would have done it.  
“Explain.” The sound that correlated to an English word sounded more like a snarl. Melissa carefully stepped forward.  
“If the biological parent is found, they get custody.” Melissa didn’t move her gaze from Dan’s eyes, no matter how much anger was directed towards her. They were always the first indication of someone’s actions. His eyes were usually calm and warm, but anger made them darker and colder. They reminded her of a feral dog she’d faced once—unpredictable, volcanic, but more scared and hurt projecting anger instead. Anything could set him off.  
“When,” he damn near bared his teeth, “did you find him?”  
“Two weeks ago,” Carson got his attention. Dan took a step towards him. Phil found his voice.  
“You didn’t tell us,” the betrayal was an undertone in the dull sound.  
“The DNA test came back today. We weren’t sure until this morning.”  
“Megan has to live with him,” Phil shut his eyes against the pain.  
“Not necessarily,” the social worker tried to give them some hope. She couldn’t bear to see Phil grieving, or Dan using rage to hide his broken heart.  
“Don’t patronize us,” Dan snapped.  
“Dan,” the quiet syllable was enough to make him step back and take a breath.  
“I’m sorry,” the anger drained out of him and left the jagged shards of pain behind.  
“If Megan’s father turns down custody, she’d be yours.” Melissa smiled weakly.  
“But we have to tell him first, Ray told them, “We wanted to give you a head’s up.”  
“Thank you,” Dan said. Phil could only nod.  
After Officers Ray and Carson headed to South Carolina, Dan and Phil comforted themselves by spending time with the children. Phil nearly broke down saying goodbye, and Dan did break down once they reached their hotel room. All they could do was order pizza, put on Fruits Baskets, and hope Mr. Tohn wouldn’t bother trying. How could they leave their angel forever? If they did, would she remember them when she grew up? Would she find their YouTube channels and wonder why they hadn’t taken her with them? Would she simply not know what she meant to them? If she didn’t find them online, could they contact her at all? What if she did find them, but dismiss them? What if they never saw her again?  
With these questions in mind, it was hardly surprising that neither man slept that night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! Thank you for reading--I hope you enjoyed. If there's something you'd like to see in future chapters, leave a comment. Let me know what you think! Have a lovely day :)


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